


Unconventional

by BloodEnvy



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Post-Movie: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Space family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 03:35:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17655284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodEnvy/pseuds/BloodEnvy
Summary: Things get a little awkward aboard the Milano when a teenage Groot accidentally calls you and Rocket 'Mom and Dad'.





	Unconventional

Your life travelling with the Guardians of the Galaxy consisted of three major kinds of moments.

The first kind, and the one that took up most of your time, was the long hours that stretched between planets wherein you were stuck in the tight quarters of the Milano. These hours meant experiencing a strange kind of domesticity and testing the patience of those around you. Whether the latter was done on purpose or by accident was completely dependent on which Guardian you were discussing.

You very rarely ever had issue with Gamora or Mantis, and anything with Drax was usually a quite literal misunderstanding. Groot was prone to mood swings now that he was going through whatever his equivalent of puberty was, but that usually meant he’d just ignore you or roll his eyes if you bugged him.

Peter or Rocket on the other hand… yeah, that was usually one hundred per cent on purpose. The more restless the three of you got from being stuck on the Milano, the more the three of you irritated each other.

The second kind were second kind were considerably fewer and further between, but one you awaited eagerly. The gunfights, the adrenaline-fueled combat and the running for your damn lives. While you all hoped for each job to go easily, each of you always held a grain of self-destructive hope that one of the others would somehow make a mess of it and you’d get to exercise itchy trigger fingers.

The third kind of moment was one you’d been eagerly awaiting the last few days stuck on the Milano: a trip planet-side to blow off steam. The chance to spend your hard-earned cash, get some fresh air or just get plain hammered was something you all jumped at. Any issue you had with the others almost always immediately once Quill announced that you were touching down.

You were returning from that exact kind of moment now, and after almost two weeks on the Milano without a stop, you had been relieved to get some time off-ship. Quill had set up a meeting for tomorrow about a potential job with an old contact, but tonight you were all free to do what you liked. And that had meant drinking, and a lot of it.

The streets were surprisingly crowded as you left the bar – apparently, you’d arrived on Xandar during some holiday or another—and while you’d enjoyed maybe one too many drinks to be navigating a group this large, you were too busy enjoying the cool night air to worry about it. You wove your way through alien bodies, your gaze slipping over to Groot every couple of minutes watchfully. The gangly Flora Colossus was cutting his own path through the bodies, his attention buried, as usual, in some gaming device.

The rest of the crew traipsed along about ten feet ahead of you, a drunken Drax easily leading the way through the throng. A relaxed smile played on your lips as you stepped past a gaggle of drunks being shepherded by a weary-looking friend.

“Damn it, move your ass, would ya?”

You stopped, hiding a laugh behind your hand as Rocket’s voice sounded irritably behind you. He shoved past someone’s leg impatiently, ignoring the way they stumbled as a result, only to be cut off by someone else. He was the other reason you were moving slower than the others; with Rocket’s much shorter stature, he was having a harder time navigating the crowd than the rest of you. You could leave him to make his own way back to the ship, sure, but in this crowd, he was likely to start a fight. Besides, you’d had fun with him tonight, so you weren’t in any hurry to be away from him.

Hell, the two of you hadn’t fought at all this last trip through space, which was a rarity for pretty much anybody when it came to Rocket. He’d spent a lot of time with you the last two weeks – sitting with you during meals, and you’d kept him company during his last few turns at piloting during the night. Still, you could tell the others were impatient, and you turned back towards them as you heard Quill shout from up ahead, a slight slur to his words.

“Y/N! Rocket! You guys coming or what?”

“We’ll meet you back on-ship!” you called back, feeling the brush of Rocket’s trail against your ankle as he finally reached your side. You glanced down at him, rolling your eyes good-naturedly at his glower. “Groot! Get your head out of that thing and either join the others or walk with us. C’mon, man.”

Groot grumbled something sourly under his breath, but he stopped all the same. Satisfied that he was going to wait, you turned on your heel to the raccoon next to you. You wavered slightly as you lost your balance, holding out your arms to steady yourself. Quill ushered the others onwards.

“You alright there, humie?” Rocket said in amusement, and you smiled.

“Having fun?”

“I get stepped on one more time and I swear, I’m gonna start blowin’ holes in these assholes.”

You snickered, shaking your head. Your voice rose to a teasing, lilting tone. “Y’know, you wouldn’t be getting stepped on if you had just accepted my offer before…”

“And I already told ya where you could stick that offer,” Rock shot back, his typical irritability undermined by what was maybe a thread of nervousness.

“Yup, you did. And your suggestion was both extremely graphic and totally imaginative, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Look,” you sighed. “D’you wanna get back home in one piece or do you wanna shoot someone and get yourself – and me – arrested?”

Rocket’s ear twitched. “Can I do both?”

“If you accept my offer, you can.” you laughed. He raised an exasperated eyebrow at you, and you shrugged. “I’m just saying.”

He sighed dramatically after a moment. “Fine. But don’t go gettin’ smug.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Rock,” you assured him with an easy grin, holding your hands up in surrender. “Now, hurry up. I should’ve been halfway through another bottle back on board by now.”

The raccoon grumbled under his breath but nodded all the same. You bent at the knees, holding out your hand. He took hold of it after a few seconds pause and you guided him as he clambered up your side. You rocked slightly as Rocket settled his weight on one side, and you shifted awkwardly to adjust to it, like you’d slung a backpack over one shoulder. You were a little surprised when he didn’t release your hand right away, but hell, you were still surprised he was accepting your offer in the first place.

When he did finally let go of your hand, one paw settled on your shoulder and the other on the nape of your neck, curling under your hair. You smiled as you felt his tail slip around your hip.

“Comfy?”

“I hate you,” he muttered petulantly.

“No, you don’t, you love me.” you teased light-heartedly, patting the paw on his shoulder. His paw slipped out to cover your hand, holding it in place, and you glanced back at him in disbelief. He shrugged, and you started forward, waving your free hand at Groot. “C’mon, sprout. And no wandering off like you did in the bar.”

Groot rolled his eyes but followed you, eyes focused back on his game. You shook your head in exasperation but continued all the same. Even with the added weight and the alcohol in your system, you managed to navigate the crowd pretty easily, Rocket’s paw still covering your hand. He didn’t speak again until you were almost back at the Milano.

“Why would you get arrested, too?”

“Huh?”

“If I shot someone back there.”

“Oh. Guilt by association. And I got your back.” you said with a shrug, stopping to let him jump down from your back. You almost missed the smile Rocket gave you in response before he turned away, heading into the ship. You were about to speak again when you felt yourself jostled by Groot bumping into you, not looking where he was going. “Ow. Groot! Eyes up, kid.”

“I am Groot.”

Rocket turned back to face you with a smirk as you joined him aboard the Milano, clapping his paws together. “Right, I owe you a drink.”

“Since when do you share?”

“Since I’m buying your silence, humie.” he shrugged, before clearing his throat, a little awkward. He rubbed the back of his head with a paw, turning to head further into the ship. “And since you’ve got my back.”

Your smile widened, and on a whim, you reached out to briefly stroke your fingers through the fur behind his ear as you passed him. It twitched at your touch, but he didn’t flinch or shy away. Instead, the slightly drunken edge to his expression softened into a small smile. “Well, I appreciate it. I’m gonna go make sure the others made it back onboard.”

Rocket nodded, raising his voice to call out to his ward. “Groot! Don’t wander off! Get your ass on the ship!”

***

“Y/N! Groot!” Quill called out to you, and you were surprised to find him lounging on your bunk. Gamora was sitting on her own, glass of water in hand. Quill on the other hand had a bottle of some dark-hued liquor clutched in his fist, one foot kicked up comfortably on the edge of your mattress, the other dangling off the edge. “Bout time you got here!”

“Yeah, looks like you missed us both a whole lot.” you said sarcastically as Groot passed you to sit on his own bed in the corner. It was kind of makeshift, but half the bunk was overrun by his vines, so clearly he didn’t seem to mind. “What are you doing on my bed?”

“Gamora wouldn’t share.”

You turned to her, speaking in a stage whisper. “He knows he has his own room, right?”

“Apparently he’s lonely in there,” she said, the dryness of her tone touched with a sort of affectionate amusement.

Quill spared her a wide, boyish grin before patting the space beside him eagerly. His expression turned to a conspiratorial smirk as you sat down, leaning into your side to speak slightly too-loud in your ear. “Were you _carrying_ Rocket before?”

“No,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Do you see me rockin’ a Baby-Bjorn?”

“I… don’t know what that is.” Quill replied. “Who’s Bjorn?”

“Never mind.”

“I saw you,” he continued, his voice turning sing-song. “You were carrying him…”

“No, I… all I did was… give him a lift,” you said with a shrug. Quill giggled, and you rolled your eyes. “And if you say anything more about it in front of Rocket and I’m gonna carve you a new…” you shot a look at Groot, who was smirking to himself. “…navel.”

“I am Groot.”

“I was _not_ going to say something else,” you lied.

“I am _Groot._ ”

“Damn straight she did, kid.” Quill snorted, raising his drink to Groot with a grin. He moved to drop his head into your lap, boots kicked up against the wall. “So, how come you and Rocket are being so friendly?”

“I am Groot.”

“Sprout!” you reprimanded in surprise, and Quill burst into a roar of laughter. Gamora hid a smile of her own behind the lip of her glass. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? And who keeps teaching you this shit?”

“It seems to be inevitable on the Milano,” Gamora said wryly, smiling innocently at Quill as he turned an offended look on her. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Oh, Peter, before I forget…” you poked him in the cheek and he turned his head to look up at you. “If I find on speck of dirt from those stupid boots on my bed and I will kill you.”

“That I’ll pay to watch.”

You started slightly at Rocket’s voice, turning to smile at him as he entered. He cast a glance towards Quill, who was still lounging over your lap, but he returned you smile with a small one of his own. You accepted a glass from him, and he leaned against the edge of the bed next to your thigh. “Thanks.”

“Aww, where’s mine?” Quill joked, and Rocket shot back a reply without hesitation.

“About three inches up your ass.”

You snorted. “Watch your language in front of Groot.”

“It’s not like he hasn’t heard worse.”

“Totally not the point, Peter,” you pointed out, smacking him lightly on the forehead. In glancing down at him, you noticed Rocket shaking his head. “What?”

He shrugged, smirking. “I just think it’s funny that you can laugh and still try to play all responsible-like.”

“I am responsible,” you retorted, affronted. You threw back a mouthful of your drink, coughing slightly as it burned your throat. “Jesus.”

“Rocket laughed. “Sure, you are, doll.”

“’Doll’? Ow!” Quill flinched as you flicked him in the temple.

“I am Groot.” The plant made move to stand, but Rocket pointed a finger at him.

“No, you ain’t going off ship again. Last time you wandered off you almost got in a brawl. And I ain’t cleanin’ up that mess again.”

“I _am_ Groot,” he huffed back, slouching back on his bunk. He folded his arms over his slim, wooden chest petulantly.

“I don’t care if you didn’t start it,” Rocket retorted. “I had to finish it!”

“ _I_ had to, you mean,” you muttered.

“I am Groot!”

“Hey!”

“Woah!” Quill said, straightening from your lap. You felt Rocket’s shoulder brush against your knee as he did. “C’mon man!”

“What kind of language is that?”

“I am Groot.”

“I don’t care if you learnt it from Rocket, I’ll kick his ass later,” you replied, ignoring Rocket’s answering scoff. “What’re you thinking, talking like that?”

Groot answered, and Rocket straightened slightly, affronted. “Hey, don’t you talk to her like that, you little—”

“Rocket, it’s—”

“I am Groot!”

You stopped mid-sentence, words dying on your lips. Groot’s eyes widened in embarrassment, and you glanced at Rocket as you felt him stiffen beside you. He was pointedly focused on the drink in his hand.

Quill almost choked on his laughter, and Gamora rolled her eyes as he spluttered. “Groot? Did you just—did you just call them ‘ _Mom’_ and _‘Dad’_?”

Groot shook his head quickly, and if he could blush you could have sworn he would have been. When Quill laughed again, Groot stood and hurried from the room.

“Sprout, wait—”

“He did!” Quill exclaimed, and Gamora shook her head, standing. She took hold of his forearm and hauled him to his feet, holding him at arm’s length.

“It’s time for you to go to bed, Peter.”

She dodged his wandering hand easily, taking hold of it instead to lead him out of the room. He let her, an almost besotted expression flashing over his face for a moment, but that didn’t stop him from pointing a finger excitedly at you as he was dragged out the door. “You’re a mom!”

“Goodnight, Peter,” you deadpanned, pulling your feet up onto your bunk. You hugged your knees self-consciously, very aware of the fact that you’d been left alone with Rocket. And he hadn’t moved at all since Groot’s accidental outburst. You glanced down at him quickly; his ear twitched slightly, and your eyes flicked quickly back to the opposite wall as if he was about to catch you in your stare. You’d almost asked Gamora to stay… hell, you might have even considered asking Quill if it meant avoiding this seriously awkward moment. Clearing your throat, you moved to stand. “I—I should go check on Groot, he—”

“Uh, Y/N, wait, I—” Rocket’s arm jerked forward slightly, as if he was going to touch your knee, but he withdrew. Still, you didn’t rise out of your seat, confused. He shook his head, sighing. “Ah, shit.”

You could still feel a blush coloring your cheeks, and your brow rose. “Rocket?”

“Nothin’. Forget it.”

“…Okay?” you said after a moment, finally coming to a stand. “Then I’m gonna go check on Groot.”

***

“Rocket?” you announced yourself quietly as you entered the cockpit. It was well after what could be considered midnight by your internal clock – you never really understood how to keep time right in outer space – and the others were all in bed, as far as you knew. All expect Rocket, who’d been stuck with the graveyard shift on the way to Knowhere.

The two of you had found yourselves with an awkwardness between you the last few days, and you still weren’t entirely certain as to why. Groot had since recovered from his own embarrassment at his Freudian slip – he’d even given you a brief, begrudging hug after you’d assured him you had no problem being considered his Mom – but Rocket was still acting… off.

“You busy.”

“You know I ain’t.” he sighed, leaning back in his seat as he returned his eyes to the stars. He’d glanced briefly at you as you’d called out, but he seemed just as determined as ever to avoid eye contact. “What are you doin’ up?”

“Trying to figure out exactly when things are going to go back to normal.”

“What’re you talkin’ about?”

“The weirdness.” you said with a shrug. “Between us. Or, at least, the weirdness you have towards me.”

Rocket cleared his throat and forced a shrug. “Don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, c’mon, Rocket. You’ve been dodging me for like three days now.” you said. “Unless its completely normal for you to avoid eye contact and get all uncomfortable with everyone now.”

“I—”

“Is this about the whole Groot calling us ‘Mom and Dad’-thing?” you continued. “Because I don’t get what the big deal is. I mean, you have to have known that he thought of you like a father, you raised the little guy. And yeah, I was a little surprised that he thinks of me as his mom, but I don’t get why this has made you act all different all of a sudden…”

You were well into a ramble now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to a stop. Rocket was your friend; you easily spent most of your time with him both on- and off-ship. Having him not talking to you was beginning to eat away at that wall you had inside that kept your anxiety at bay.

“…I mean, is it because he probably thinks of us as—” you stopped. “Oh. Right.”

Groot thinking of you two as his parents meant he probably thought of you two as… a couple. No wonder Rocket was being so weird.

“Y/N—”

“No, it’s okay. I get it.” you said hurriedly, waving a hand. “I mean, him thinking of us as, like, _together,_ and you not liking me like that – how could you – I can see why you’d feel awk…”

Your voice died in your throat as you noticed the look Rocket was giving you. It was almost pained, and there was something in his eyes, an earnestness. Maybe even a longing. All mixed in with dejection.

And it hit you.

“Oh.”

Rocket’s gaze dropped, and he turned away from you again.

“Rocket—”

“Look, Y/N, just forget it, alright?” he said, a kind of defeated bitterness marring his tone. It almost came out as a sigh, like he was finally being met with the inevitable. “It’s nothin’.”

“You… you like me?” you asked, fingers curling in the hem of your shirt by your hip. “You have feelings for me?”

Rocket jumped down from his seat, shrugging a shoulder as he turned his back on you and busied himself with the ship’s controls.

“Rocket.”

“I said leave it, humie,” he repeated, his voice tired. Like he’d worked himself to the same conclusion over and over; he didn’t have the energy for however he thought this conversation would go. Did you? How was it going to go? “I don’t need your sympathy. Or your charity. We can just keep on going.” His voice dropped, and you could barely hear his sigh. “Just keep going.”

“Why?”

Rocket didn’t respond. So, after a moment, you stepped forward and removed a few of the feet between you. You swallowed, speaking more firmly.

“Why, Rocket?”

“Why, what?”

“Why do we have to pretend like this isn’t happening?” you asked. “It is. Shouldn’t we talk about this?”

“I told you,” Rocket replied, turning around finally. He looked a little taken aback seeing you standing so much closer than before, but he continued. The bitterness in his voice increased. “I don’t need your charity. I ain’t a moron, doll. And I blind.”

“No, you’re not a moron.” You swallowed, and after a moment you knelt down, bringing yourself down to his eye level. He froze for a moment at the new, more intimate space between the two of you, and you felt a blush begin to color your cheeks as his gaze met yours. “But what is it exactly that you think you’re seeing here?”

He hesitated for a long moment before he sighed, rubbing at the back of his head. “You know what. You’re a Terran, and I’m… I’m a…”

“How about we just go with: I’m Y/N, and you’re Rocket. It really doesn’t have to be any more complicated than that.” you suggested softly. “Rocket. Can you just be honest with me? Please?”

“I—” he swallowed as his voice caught in his throat, and he nodded.

“Good. Then can I be honest with you?”

Rocket couldn’t seem to find words; there was a mix of suspicion and maybe what could be hope on his face, and somehow it made sense that he could somehow conjure up both those emotions at once in those big, brown eyes. He nodded again.

“Thank you.” you smiled.

You leaned forward slowly, mindful of his wariness and general mistrust, and while his ears straightened, alert, he didn’t otherwise move. You ran your fingers carefully through the fur on either side of his face, finding yourself a little surprised at how soft it was under your hands. He relaxed slightly under your touch, his gaze only breaking from yours as he closed his eyes. You could see a smile of his own curving at his mouth. Closing your eyes, you pressed a kiss to the top of his brow.


End file.
